Closing Hours

We wandered the carnival long past closing hours. But nothing had closing hours, not then. I guess it didn't seem important.

Some of the lights were still flickering, too bright in their cracked, painted bulbs, in half-colours with casting ghostly shadows. There was crushed popcorn on the ground, candy wrappers and globs of caramel that had fallen off freshly made caramel apples. There were a few tickets, though most people had probably been keeping their tickets in their pockets, and had no thought to drop them when they ran.

We went to the Ferris Wheel first, because it was your favourite. We picked our way through debris, and I only got distracted once when I though I saw a stray cat, but it was just a piece of a fur stole caught under a broken marquis.

The Ferris Wheel wouldn't turn, not when we pushed the buttons or pushed it. So we settled for climbing up the rim, clinging to the foundations and swinging on the seats. We went as high as we dared, though you went higher. I was never very good with heights.

We agreed the carousel was next. It was still beautiful, almost untouched, only a few nicks in the wood here and there, a chunk from a pony's ear or tail.

"They're laughing," you said, looking at their pounted mouths and bridles.

"They're screaming," I corrected.

We climbed on top and we did not expect it to go when we pushed the button. But it did, and the lights blazed and flashed on the mirrors in the centre of it, and the pony's went up and down like the rocking of a ship.

We stayed on the carousel for hours. By the end of it I had a smile I couldn't get rid of, no matter how much I tried. You were sobbing, but you insisted you were alright. I don't know if I was crying. Or why.

When the sun had almost faded and the shadows began growing in the niches of rubble and detritus we decided to go home.

"We can always come back," I said, taking your hand as though you were a small child, though you had stopped crying and your face was not as pink.

We will come back. So those ponies don't get lonlely. Because we're all they have now.